<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Flight Home by AGirlAndABeast</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26792425">The Flight Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGirlAndABeast/pseuds/AGirlAndABeast'>AGirlAndABeast</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Doctor and the Bodyguard [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Romantic Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:36:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26792425</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGirlAndABeast/pseuds/AGirlAndABeast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa and Tyrion are on a return flight home early Christmas morning, having spent eight days in King’s Landing working a case.  Modern AU.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Doctor and the Bodyguard [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Flight Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>1:  I love Christmas fic but no one likes it at Christmas time.  It is not Christmas time, ergo I chose to post Christmas fic.<br/>2:  I tried to put in some details, without doing an info-dump within the fic... but basically all you need to know is: Tyrion is a brilliant scientist, and Sansa is his FBI-trained bodyguard.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>\/</p>
<p>“It’s officially Christmas Day.”</p>
<p>Through a bump of turbulence, Sansa checked her watch and saw that it was almost a half minute past midnight.  “So it is,” she said, returning to her final notations for her report into the emergency that had seen them in King’s Landing for the last eight days.</p>
<p>She was trying to put into adequate words the work Dr Lannister had done to save the town they were in from a catastrophic and nearly cataclysmic end, but he often used terminology that went far over her head and it inevitably slowed down the writing of her reports.  For herself, she would write of dealing with the mucho sons of bitches who had tried to wrestle Tyrion away from his initial attempts to save the day, or the Holier than Thou priest who had told her at gunpoint that they needed to accept the end that was coming to them and make peace with whichever of the gods they believed in.</p>
<p>Somehow, as per usual, they figured their way out of the mess and saved the day.  Well, it was usually more Tyrion than her that saved the day, but she’d be lying if she didn’t feel a hint of pride every time they got to walk away from the latest emergency without much more than a scratch after beating whatever Doomsday Clock the gods had set for them this time.</p>
<p>At her side, a Christmas song sounded in the ear plugs that hung around Tyrion’s neck, and as he moved in his seat to find a comfortable spot to rest his head, she noticed him glance sidelong at her.</p>
<p>“Did I ever tell you what I love most about Christmas?” he asked.</p>
<p>Her first thought was of a cherished memory he held of his late wife.  Perhaps their first Christmas together? “No, I don’t believe you did,” she answered, briefly meeting his gaze.</p>
<p>“The snow.”</p>
<p>Sansa smiled, wide.  She could easily envision him looking at collected snowflakes under a microscope, and the thought made her smile.  <em>Of course you do, Lannister</em>.</p>
<p>“The snow?” She paused, searching his eyes.  “Why is that?” she asked, though she felt certain she already knew his answer.</p>
<p>“No two snowflakes are ever the same, you know.”</p>
<p>While she often didn’t know what he was talking about, it was hard to pretend she didn’t know that about snowflakes given she grew up in Winterfell, but she decided to play along.  “They aren’t?”  She exhaled softly, holding his gaze.  “I never knew that.”</p>
<p>Tyrion, caught up in what he was talking about, leaned forward and lowered his voice a little.  “They can be of the same type, such as simple prisms or the stellar dendrites...”</p>
<p>“And the more common irregular crystals,” Sansa added, causing Tyrion to stare at her, taken aback by what had just come out of her mouth.  Her lips curved when she smiled, explaining, “I’ve always loved snowflakes.  Ever since I was a little girl.”</p>
<p>She waited for an answer.  For anything, but he was only staring at her.</p>
<p>“Lannister?”</p>
<p>Tyrion blinked, promptly continuing as though she hadn’t interrupted his flow of thought.  “But as similar in type as they may be, the way each flake was formed makes every one of them....”</p>
<p>“Unique,” she finished for him, giving him an apologetic smile.</p>
<p>He nodded.  “Unique,” he echoed.  “Just as you are.”</p>
<p>She mused over his words.  “I’ve been called some things before, though I don’t think unique was one of them.  Well, except in training, but I <em>know</em> it was never as a compli—”  Her voice halted mid-speech when Tyrion reached over to brush back stray strands of her auburn hair.</p>
<p>“The world doesn’t see you the way I do, Sansa,” Tyrion said, searching her eyes.</p>
<p>Sansa felt her breath catch in her throat, and her heart began to race.  “How is it you see me, Lannister?”</p>
<p>Caressing her cheek with his thumb, he inched closer.  “Beautiful.  Intelligent.  An excellent marksman.  ”</p>
<p>She gave him a playful, thankful smile.</p>
<p>“And...” he murmured, “you take my breath away, like no one I’ve ever met before.”</p>
<p>Sansa’s breath caught again.  “Lannister... I...”</p>
<p>“And... I know you said you didn’t want a present, but there’s something... something very special that I would like to give you, Sansa.”</p>
<p>Exhaling softly in an attempt to slow her racing heart, she placed her hand over his and leaned into his touch.  “I told you, you didn’t have to get or do anything for me.”</p>
<p>He leaned forward, his face not far from hers.  “I know,” he whispered.  He closed the last gap between them and drew her mouth to his.  He then brushed his lips against hers, soft and sweet. </p>
<p>The softness of his lips, the tenderness in the way he kissed her, made her heart race faster than it had those moments ago.</p>
<p>She released a gentle moan when he deepened the kiss, took hold of his sweater and pulled him to her.  It was after he swept his tongue across her upper lip, causing her to gasp that she broke away.</p>
<p>The taste of the toffees the stewardess had given him when they boarded lingered on her lips and tongue now.  She could smell them as he pressed his forehead against hers, stroking her cheek with his thumb while they each caught their breath.</p>
<p>A few moments passed, when Sansa pulled back enough to gaze into Tyrion’s green eyes.  She smiled, affectionately.  “Merry Christmas, Tyrion.”</p>
<p>He caressed her cheek, murmuring “Merry Christmas, Sansa,” before tenderly capturing her mouth with his once more, kissing her tenderly.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>